


New Testament

by poisontaster



Series: Books of the Living [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Has Powers, Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-09
Updated: 2006-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:39:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5147219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam knows something's going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Testament

"Why do you do it?" Sam asks out of the blue one day when Dean is collecting his change from the register jockey.

Dean gives him a weird look, pockets the handful of crumpled bills and change and collects his trove of snack cakes, soda and candy. "Do what?"

"With the post cards."

Dean startles then grows very still under his skin, still hustling out to the car as if he can outrace this line of questioning if he just keeps moving.

"You're writing on them all the time now. And then you send them off…you don't even put a stamp on them."

Dean shrugs. "It's not the destination that's so important as getting the words out," he says.

"So…what? You're writing Zen poetry and sending it out into the ether—ow!" Sam ducks too late as Dean whaps him in the back of the head. "I'm just _asking_!" he says. "Besides, you know they just end up at the Dead Letter Office, right?"

"S'not the point, Sam," Dean says and really, he could have waited forever to have this talk with Sam. After all his bullshitting about Ghost Whisperers and whatnot, he didn't want to have to be the one to go back to Sam and say, _"See, okay…here's the thing. I really **do** talk to dead people._ "

"Well, what _is_ the point?"

Dean wonders if this is the time he's supposed to tell Sam about that month that Jess had come to visit him. He still feels squirmy about the whole situation, even though he couldn't control Jess any more than he can control any of the other spirits that come visiting. "I don't know," he evades, tossing all their food in the back and sliding into the car. The seat sighs under him and he likes to imagine it's with relief. It is for him anyway. "Maybe just to put the words out there. Maybe I had something to say." He looks over at Sam sliding in on the other side, suddenly angry, suddenly defiant. "You trying to say I don't have anything to say?"

"No, I'm not saying that at all." Sam rolls his eyes and blows some of his hair out of his face and Dean refrains from making the obvious statement that Sam could prevent all this fuss if he'd just cut it. There's no surer way to make Sam grow it all the way down to his ass, probably.

"Well, okay, then." Dean puts the car in gear and starts pulling out, dust rising in clouds of dull beige all around them. He's gonna have to put his baby in for a wash, once they get out of all this dirt.

They're silent for a while, both of them juking along to some Steve Miller and Dean's starting to think maybe he got away with the whole thing when Sam speaks up and says, "I'm just saying…if you had something to say…you could say it to me."

Dean sighs. Sam's just going to keep pushing on this, because that's what Sam does, tireless as a river cutting its way through rock. And Dean…well, he's been the rock on the wrong end of Sam's need-to-know one too many times to think he won't cave in, but like the rock, he's going to hold out for as long as he can. Because that's what he does. He reaches over and pats Sam's cheek condescendingly. "I tell you everything you need to know, sweetheart."

Sam shoves Dean's hand away, disgusted, and Dean only laughs.


End file.
